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Category: Excerpts

The Descendants – Will Jay Succeed in Finding the Key to Immortality?

Posted on by prathod

Ever wondered what happens when a mysterious meteor lands, carrying a powerful black element with supernatural possibilities? Join Jay, the CEO of Vantra Labs, in Laksh Maheshwari and Ashish Kavi’s The Descendants, as he embarks on a modern-day adventure where science collides with ancient prophecies. Does history repeat itself, and can Jay navigate the intricate blend of family, science, and destiny?

Find out in this exclusive excerpt!

The Descendants
The Descendants || Laksh Maheshwari, Ashish Kavi

 ***

The sudden flash of a lightning bolt reflected on the glass panes of the city’s skyscrapers intimidated Jay, pulling him out of his trance as he walked towards the parking lot. He moved gingerly towards his car, clad in his impeccable Vanquish II suit and carrying a leather laptop bag in his right hand, drenched from head to toe.  

 

Dhananjay Somvanshi, the rightful heir to Vantra Technologies, had been brutally dethroned. Two days ago, he was on the path to saving the world and now here he was, discarded like a piece of scrap by his own family.  

 

With each step he took, he mulled over a single question— how could this happen?  

 

He reached his Mercedes and sat in the backseat. Water dripped from his pants and began to pool on the car’s floor as he closed the door with a loud thud. With a thousand thoughts whirling through his head, he first took off his shoes and socks, and then his soaked jacket which he folded neatly beside him. He felt another wave of fury boiling through him. Clenching his jaw, he started throwing punches at the car seat and took his laptop and smashed it repeatedly against the window till it was completely destroyed.  

 

The man sitting in a white uniform in the driver’s seat remained unfazed. 

‘Let’s go home, Kaka. There’s nothing left for me here,’ Dhananjay said.  

 

‘Letting anger steep within is no better than diluting your blood with poison and expecting it to kill the other person,’ the man in the driver’s seat spoke without looking behind.  

 

‘What?’  

 

‘Whenever you feel rage bubbling inside you, think of the consequences; where would the decisions you make under such a cloud lead you? Anger never creates, Jay, it only destroys.’ Kaka smiled pensively.  

 

Jay’s eyes scanned the seat and the floor which was now dusted with the laptop’s parts and realized the futility of his actions. He looked outside the window and noticed that it had stopped raining.  

 

A sadhu wrapped in saffron from head to toe walked by their car. He was strangely dry and seemed unbothered by the muddy puddles or the bits of litter floating out of the clogged gutters along the sidewalks.  

 

‘I wish I could go somewhere far away from all this hideousness, to live a quiet life of peace and solitude.’ He sighed. ‘I feel lost now. All my efforts over the past months have been in vain and I feel defeated by the ones I call my flesh and blood.’  

 

There is no peace without conflict;  

 

no joy without sadness;  

 

no virtue without sin;  

 

and son, there is no sannyasa (renunciation) without karma.  

 

‘What do you mean, Kaka?’  

 

‘I mean no learning without burning!’ Kaka joked and laughed. 

 

A slight smile broke out on Jay’s lips and he felt calmer. Kaka had had this impact on him ever since he was a child. He had always been an anchor and a friend whenever Jay needed support or advice. Kaka was like a father when Jay needed love and a guru when he needed direction. ‘Follow your own path and leave the rest to Hari (Lord),’ he would always say.  

 

‘What happened, Jay?’ Kaka asked with concern.  

 

Kaka had been driving, and it was only now that Jay noticed that they were not heading home.  

 

‘Kaka, where are we?’ He looked out, trying to recognize the area which looked like an uninhabited clifftop.  

 

‘We are just making a pit stop,’ Kaka said with his constant gentle smile. He got out of the car and stood at the edge of the cliff, whistling a beautiful melody.  

 

Jay stepped out of the car and looked around. The view was amazing. He could see the whole city spread out in front of him. In the distance, he could see the majestic building with a ‘V’ on it, towering over the other buildings.  

 

‘Now tell me, what happened in there?’ Kaka stopped his whistling and asked.  

 

‘Arindam Chachu is on a wretched path that can only lead to havoc. You always knew this would happen, but I still couldn’t believe that he’s capable of such despicable actions.’ Jay shook his head.  

 

‘Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man’s character, give him power,’ Kaka said. 

 

***

Get your copy of The Descendants by Laksh Maheshwari and Ashish Kavi wherever books are sold.

Why Lakshmi is More Than Just the Goddess of Prosperity

Posted on by prathod

Explore Hindu mythology like never before with Namita Gokhale’s Treasures of Lakshmi. In this book, Gokhale unfolds the stories of ancient deities, exploring their evolution from the Rig Vedic era to the post-Buddha period. Against the historical backdrop of events like Alexander’s arrival in India, the book delves into the tales of gods and goddesses, with a special focus on Lakshmi’s story of prosperity from the Vishnu Purana.

 

The Treasures of Lakshmi
The Treasures of Lakshmi || Namita Gokhale

***

THERE ARE MANY gods and goddesses in the Sanatan Dharma (Hinduism is a newer word, proposed as recently as the nineteenth century). Aldous Huxley translated it as ‘the perennial philosophy’. In the Rig Veda, the gods which feature in the hymns are Indra, Agni, Varuna and Surya, who become minor gods by the time of post-Buddha India. It is said that when Alexander arrived in the Indian subcontinent in the fourth century bce, there was worship of a god similar to Heracles, who has been later identified as Krishna.

 

The Vishnu Purana is dated by its most recent translator, Professor Bibek Debroy, as being from the period 450 bce to 300 bce, definitely a post-Buddha document. You see immediately that the Vishnu Purana is post-Vedic and even post-Vedantic. Vishnu replaces the abstract universal principle of Brahman: ‘He is the supreme Brahman.’ The irresistible conjecture is that faced with the concrete persona of Buddha and the rapid spread of Buddhism, the Sanatan Dharmists retaliated with a personal but immensely powerful god: Vishnu.

 

So, sometime in the second half of the last millennium bce, there is a shift to the modern Trimurti structure with Brahma, Vishnu and Mahesh. The old Rig Vedic gods are demoted and a new set emerges which takes over. The Vishnu Purana has stories about all three deities but constantly reiterates the supreme position of Vishnu.

 

Then, Brahma somehow gets displaced. (We need not go into this episode.) There are few, if any, temples dedicated to him, relative to the other two male gods. Somewhere, then, the mother goddess, Durga/Kali/Amba, becomes as important in the Trinity as Vishnu and Shiva. There is some discussion of Durga being a pre-Aryan goddess, but this may be controverted. Saraswati is the only other goddess worshipped in her own right and not as the consort of a male god.

 

The point is that while the pantheon of deities is crowded, there are only three at the top—two male gods and one female goddess. (Of course, attributing gender to gods and goddesses is tricky. Shiva doubles up as Ardhanareeshwar.) Lakshmi, the subject of this essay, is not in the top Trinity. She appears as the consort of Vishnu and is worshipped especially on the thirteenth night of the waning moon cycle, two nights before Diwali. The occasion is called Dhanteras in Gujarati, being the one night dedicated to the goddess of prosperity. No other goddess has a Diwali slot.

 

But as Shri, Lakshmi is ubiquitous. We append the labels ‘Shri’, ‘Shriman’, ‘Shrimati’, indicating someone favoured or due to be favoured by the goddess Lakshmi. Widows (in Gujarati at least) are addressed as ‘Gangaswaroop’, definitely not Shrimati. Fortune for a woman resides in having a husband around.

 

It is in the Vishnu Purana—a massive document running to almost 600 pages in Bibek Debroy’s book—that we encounter Lakshmi’s story. Purana storytelling is, of course, not straightforward or linear. It wanders, often telling the same story more than once with different nuances. You are supposed to listen and retain the details.

 

Lakshmi is first mentioned along with the story of Sati (Parvati) in Chapter 1 (8) titled ‘Rudra’s Account’. In the Vishnu Purana, Parashara is talking to Maitreya and telling him the long story of Vishnu. Rudra occurs in the Rig Veda and is called Shiva later on. Rudra marries Sati. But then Daksha’s anger comes in the way and Sati gives up her body. However, she is born again as the daughter of Himavat and Mena as Uma. ‘In this form, the illustrious Hara married her again.’

 

The first casual mention of Lakshmi follows. ‘Bhrigu’s wife Khyati gave birth to the divinities, Dhatri and Vidhatri, and to Shri, the wife of Narayana, the god of the gods.’ Maitreya asks how that can be, since Lakshmi emerged from the churning of the ocean. So, in a way, Lakshmi’s story is presumed to be known, but of course given the style of a Purana it has to be told again. Parashara launches into a laudatory description of Shri, but more so of Vishnu, whose female companion Shri is. Vishnu is praised to the utmost, while Lakshmi has glory as Vishnu’s other.

 

Chapter 1 (9) is devoted to the story of the emergence of Lakshmi from the churning of the ocean, Samudramanthan.It is a fascinating account as to how Shri emerges from the ocean churning process. The story starts in somewhat dramatic fashion with the sage Durvasa ‘observing the vow of acting like a lunatic’. He has a divine garland made of santanaka flowers, which grow in Indra’s gardens. The sage throws the garland at Indra, who is riding the Airavata. Indra puts it on the Airavata, who throws it off. Durvasa is enraged by this disrespect and curses Indra and the gods that they will lose their prosperity. He says, ‘All mobile and immobile entities dread the arousal of Lakshmi’s wrath. But because you take yourself to be the king of the gods, in your pride, you have slighted her and me.’ In this way, the story of Lakshmi is laid out. (Though she is first mentioned in ‘Rudra’s Account’, that is a passing reference in which Lakshmi is included along with other characters.)

***

Get your copy of Treasures of Lakshmi by Namita Gokhale wherever books are sold.

Why Saving Money Isn’t Sexy, but Absolutely Necessary

Posted on by prathod

Ever wondered why saving money feels like a snooze-fest? Ankur Warikoo’s Make Epic Money has the answer!
In this no-nonsense guide, Warikoo breaks through the boredom, offering a blueprint to make your savings hustle just as hard as you do.

Get ready for a learning experience that’s not just about saving but about discovering the power to walk away from the mundane and live life on your own epic terms!

 

Make Epic Money
Make Epic Money || Ankur Warikoo

 

“Life will throw everything but the kitchen sink in your path, and then it will throw
the kitchen sink. It’s your job to avoid the obstacles.”
– Andre Agassi, Open

 

Saving isn’t sexy.
We should save. We get it.
For the future, for our marriage, for our kids, for retirement.
Blah, Blah, blah. Heard it all before.

 

Yet, we don’t.
Because saving isn’t sexy. Or fun. Or exciting.
It’s boring.

 

The future seems so far off.
Our goals seem so far off.
“Retirement? I haven’t even started earning properly yet!”

 

AND we’re not making enough money…
AND we’ll miss out on life…
Our friends are putting up reels of sundowners in Goa.

Why should WE save?
So, we postpone saving.
We’ll start tomorrow. Next month. Next year.
Just not today.

 

But we should save.
Because. Life. Is. Crazy.
Almost like a Bollywood movie.
One moment, we’re happily dancing around a tree. Next moment, we’re hit by a flying coconut.
Plot twists and drama.
Just not as entertaining when it happens to us.

 

Medical emergencies. Job losses.
Lawsuits. Unexpected death in the family.
All horrible things to think about.
We hope (fingers crossed) they’ll never happen.
But we know that they might.
The absolute last thing we want to worry about in such times is whether we have sufficient funds to cover
us, and see us through.

 

Savings give you the ultimate F*** You Power
The power to walk away from a job you hate.
The power to handle a medical emergency without depleting your reserves.
The power to get a better interest rate on a loan.
The power to move into your own place.
The power to live life on your terms.

 

You don’t have to give up what you love.
Saving does not equal stopping spending. Sitting at home. Being miserable.
Once you’ve decided how much you want to save, spend the rest on whatever you want.
With no guilt.

 

Here are 13 tips to help you save more
→ Budget – boring but effective!
You can’t improve what you don’t measure.
Minimum 20% of your income has to be saved, every month/year.

 

→ Automate your savings
If we have money in the bank, we tend to spend it.
It’s not always easy to do the right thing.
So, make the right thing easy!

Automate!

Sign up for as much EPF deduction as you can, so it never reaches you.
Do monthly SIPs (and don’t stop them!).
Open a separate investment account.
As soon as your salary hits, sweep your investment amount to that account.
Park your emergency fund, your SIP instalments, your lump sum investments in the new account.

 

→ 30-day rule
If you really want to buy something big, wait for 30 days.
Chances are you’ll decide you won’t need it.

 

→ Try a fortnightly money ‘fast’
Once a week or fortnight, don’t spend on anything. Anything.
Spoiler: This will require some advance preparation.
Food? Take food from home.
Ride to work? Carpool.
Coffee? Your office coffee machine was made for this non-spending day.

 

→ Choose debit/UPI over credit cards
Debit/UPI is money you actually have.
Credit cards give you the illusion of money that you may not actually have.
If you don’t have it, you can’t spend it. Ha!
The best part? It’s free (a lot of places still charge a surcharge on credit cards)!

 

→ Use credit cards, ONLY if you have 100% of the money
Credit cards can be a good thing:
● 30 to 45 days of an interest-free loan.
● Improved credit rating (if you make the full payment every month)
● Rewards and vouchers – who doesn’t want those?
But ONLY IF you have the full amount.

 

→ Make shopping lists and stick to them
It’s a fact – a list makes us stick to it.
Do this even if you’re buying online.

 

→ Rent, if you’re not a frequent user
Nowadays, everything is on rent – be it cars, gadgets or gowns!
So, don’t buy things you won’t use frequently.
In our parents’ time, renting was shocking.
Today, the mantra is ‘reduce, reuse’. Do that.
P.S. I rent my camera lens. The ones I like are insanely expensive and I pay peanuts to use them for 7
days a year at most!

 

→ Buy bigger sizes
Bigger sizes tend to be cheaper, per unit.
If you have the storage space, buy larger packs, particularly non-perishable items.

 

→ Use deal/discount sites
Use deals and discount sites as much as you can. There’s no shame in it.
It just means that you respect your money.
Your money will start to respect you back.

 

→ Pay off your loans faster
Just because you have a 25-year home loan, doesn’t mean you take 25 years to repay it.
Repayment initially goes more towards the interest and less towards repaying the principal.
Repay early, save!

E.g: Pay 1 extra EMI/year (13 instead of 12). Increase that EMI by 10% every year.
A 25-year loan reduces to 10 years. And you save 60% on your interest amount!

 

→ Buy life insurance when you’re young.
You pay a lower premium and get longer coverage.
Why wouldn’t you save on something so fundamental?
E.g., If you buy insurance when you’re 25 till you’re 65, you get 40 years of cover and STILL end up
paying a lesser premium, than if you were to buy the same cover at age 35 (and only get cover for 30
years).

 

→ Shop online in incognito mode
Prices keep increasing when you keep searching for items online – flight tickets, hotels or even products.
Switch to incognito mode.
You’ll get a price that is given to a new user.
This is usually the lowest price, because they want the new user to convert.

 

This can’t work on apps, so do your buying on your desktop or laptop.
Disclaimer: I have no way to prove this.
—————-
Use these hacks as a smart way to save more money, without compromising on your desires and needs.

 

Save as a gift to your future self:
The gift of security.
The ability to meet your life-goals.
A safety net for unpredictability.
Freedom to live life on your own terms.

 

But.

 

DON’T go through life focusing only on a savings mindset.
There’s a limit to how much you can save.
But remember there’s no limit on how much you can earn.
Keep finding ways to increase your income.
That will help you build wealth much faster than saving will.

 

***

Want to manage your hard-earned money like a pro?

Get your copy of Make Epic Money by Ankur Warikoo wherever books are sold.

Healthy. Unhealthy. Toxic. What’s Your Relationship Spectrum?

Posted on by prathod

Ever wondered what happens when a girl falls for a guy nicknamed ‘Frankenstein,’ despite all the warning bells ringing around her? Join Shenaz Treasury in All He Left Me Was a Recipe, a rollercoaster of love, laughter, and life lessons, as she spills the beans on relationships, awkward moments, and recipes that turn out to be more than just ingredients on paper.

 

All He Left Me Was a Recipe
All He Left Me Was a Recipe || Shenaz Treasury

***

They called him Frankenstein.
Her friends, Malini and Jarna, were wary of him.
‘He’s shady.’
‘He parties too much.’
‘He cheated on his ex.’
‘He lies.’

 

Their warnings rang in her ears, but she ignored them all.
There was just something about him. He was smooth, charming and made her laugh and giggle.
He loved strawberry ice cream. They often found themselves in Naturals licking ice cream together, giggling at his jokes.

 

She travelled for the first time in her life to Europe.
A solo backpacking trip. But after a few weeks he started missing her and showed up at her dorm.

 

They went to Italy and Switzerland. And while she wanted to see everything, he just wanted to chill, but somehow they found a balance and giggled all the way about how different they were. They laughed a lot.

 

All his jokes were funny until a year later, when the feel-good hormones and brain chemicals were starting to return to normal, and she suddenly began to notice little things. He drank way too much and his drunk rambling, which was once adorable, had become increasingly confusing. He had a myriad other habits that she couldn’t help noticing. It was a broad spectrum that ranged from blatantly flirting with girls in front of her to fights instigated by him on Fridays that lasted the weekend after which they’d find their way back to this bubble of infatuation by Sunday. In this bubble, he was still so attractive, still made her laugh and they still travelled, ate a lot of strawberry ice cream and had a lot of fun together.

 

And that’s the thing about attraction; it can blind you to everything else and throw caution to the wind.

 

She was in the studio hosting her 1000th episode on MTV. It was a big day and a great number of people had tuned in. She was on the couch, taking questions. She called on a girl from the live audience who had raised her hand.

 

‘Hi, I’m Jugnoo. Don’t you think it’s still a maledominated world out here in India?’

She considered the question.

With a deep breath she replied, ‘Hi Jugnoo. Well, um . . . Yes. I think that it’s a male-dominated world if we let it be. I mean, the world is the world we let it be, but we can make it the world we want it to be.’

 

Meanwhile, on the other end of the screen, her best friends were watching her from a beauty parlour. Jarna was getting a head massage and munching on potato wedges drenched in mayo with her big belly (she was pregnant at the time), and a very sad, tired looking Yogi, who had just broken up with her boyfriend, was getting her legs waxed.

 

‘Indian women face challenges, we all know that. We may feel boxed in by customs and fears and expectations. But we should be allowed to reject those things if they aren’t . . . right for us.’ In the beauty parlour, Yogi yelped as a strip of wax was pulled from her leg.

 

At the same time, in her living room, her parents, sister and a group of aunties were watching too.

 

The aunties all beamed with pride when they heard her say, ‘My own loving, beautiful mother looks at my world, my choices and my possibilities, and it’s a world she doesn’t even recognize. Our generation of women have the opportunity to create a world that isn’t, as you say, male dominated. And I believe we can.’

 

On hearing her speak, one of the aunties was compelled to share her own pearl of wisdom: ‘She sounds like she’s lost weight.’
The live audience clapped, and the switchboard lit up. It was time. ‘All right, let’s go to a call. We’re on with . . .’ she announced as she read from the screen. A muffled voice responded on the other end, the words not quite audible. She looked over at the control booth. The confused engineer held his hands up behind the glass panel.

‘Hi, you are on air.’ Suddenly, the muffled voice responded. It was positively female, and it said, ‘TV GIRL, stop seeing him.’
Her eyes widened.

 

Confused and wary, she ventured in an amiable voice, ‘Sorry? Do you have a question for me?’
The muffled female voice on the other end hesitated. ‘He . . . is with you and me, and God knows how many others for God knows how many months.’

In her home living room, her parents, sister and the aunties were all shocked.
‘Frankenstein?’ her sister screeched.

***

Curious to know what happened next?
Get your copy of All He Left Me Was a Recipe by Shenaz Treasury wherever books are sold.

Outsider to Insider: What’s So Special about Goa Anyway?

Posted on by prathod

Step into the vibrant world of Becoming Goan by Michelle Mendonça Bambawale, a heartfelt journey through Goa’s beauty and culture. From inheriting a 160-year-old house in Siolim to discovering quirky legends, Michelle’s memoir is a colorful exploration of identity, love for the land, and concerns about its environment.

Read this exclusive excerpt to dive into the simplicity, warmth, and joy of Goa and ultimately Becoming Goan.

 

Becoming Goan
Becoming Goan || Michelle Mendonça Bambawale

 

‘Nothing is simpler than being a Goa . . . For God in his infinite sagacity has divided the world into two continents, Goa and the rest of the world, and the whole of humanity into two distinct races: Goans and non-Goans,’ 19 concluded poet and writer Manoharrai Sardessai in his Goa Today editorial.

 

A Goan’s love for the state is our foremost attachment. Its breathtaking beauty has made us fiercely proprietorial. You will hear: ‘Our Goa or our Goan.’ Being Goan comes first, before our Hindu, Muslim, Christian, Sikh, Parsi, Jain, Jewish, Buddhist, atheist, or environmentalist beliefs. We are united by our love of this blessed land, its mangoes and feni. Goan men across religious and other persuasions have gout— the gift of a rich diet.

 

Goa is some sort of strange east–west hybrid. Estranged from the rest of India because of its longer Portuguese colonization, Goan Catholics were forced to adapt Westernized dress and food habits when they were converted. Over the centuries, there was a synthesis with the Latin culture and Goa got the ‘eat, drink, sing, dance and be merry’ stereotype that we still have today. With its wines, women and songs, Goa is seen as more western from the rest of India and is the exotic east for those from the West. Goans have a unique sense of who we are. We have a strong joie de vivre. To some, it is heritage—the land, tambdi mati, Konkani, mandos and dulpods, kunbi and dekni, house and property, laterite, Xittcodi, feni, football and the monsoons. To others, it is modernity—education and transportation for all, accountable politics, the fight against mining, construction, corruption and casinos. Many are proud: ‘We have one of the highest rates of literacy, voter turnout and GDP in the country.’

 

 

The Goa Migration Study 2008 discusses, ‘Though the Portuguese spent 451 years in Goa—making it one of the longest colonial dominations in history—the regime unleashed its proselytizing zeal only on its ‘Old Conquests’ in the talukas of Bardez, Salcete, Tiswadi and Mormugao. The Old Conquests were densely populated, but the Portuguese did little to set up industries or generate employment in these areas. Consequently, nearly one-tenth of the population was forced to migrate.

 

 

I suspect there is some unwritten hierarchy involved in where Goans migrated to. The biggest and most influential clusters were economics—the sophisticated Bombay Goans (Bombaikars) with big city conveniences and attitudes, the Karachi Goans, who now have Indian passports, visa-related challenges and complications with their land being confiscated and labelled ‘enemy property’, and the East African Goans (Africanders), who are Westernized in their dress and attitude and prefer to be called either Goans or Portuguese, not Indians or East Africans. Then there were also Goans like my grandparents who moved to Poona, Belgaum, Dharwad, Hubli, Nagpur or Bhusawal for education and employment. Somehow, the poor Goans in Goa don’t rank very high and are left behind. Hence, I am asked, ‘Why would you choose to live in such an old-fashioned place? You have to leave to succeed.’ It is similar to the power and hierarchy of passports, where a Canadian, Portuguese or Australian, is perceived to be more powerful than an Indian, Pakistani or Bangladeshi one.

 

Academicians and historians have studied and documented the Goan diaspora, including prominent personalities of Goan descent. While there are many that hold public office, including the re-elected Prime Minister of Portugal, Antonio Costa, several others are soldiers, artists, writers, musicians, athletes, doctors, engineers, nuns and priests, who have made the world a better place, saved lives and won hearts and accolades. Uncle Clarie, my godfather, Mummy’s younger brother aka Wing Commander Clarence D’Lima, was an elite and decorated Indian airforce pilot, who laid down his life (at the young age of thirty-none) in the service of this country. In November 1977, he was piloting an aircraft carrying then prime minister Morarji Desai and other VVIPS that crashed close to the storm-soaked Jorhat airfield in Assam, as they attempted to land under extremely adverse and challenging flight conditions. All the passengers survived while all the flight crew perished.

 

In honour of his heroic service, a road is named after him in Pune (close to where he lived) and in Limavaddo in Socorro, Goa (his ancestral village).

 

Plenty of the Goan diaspora remain very interested in their ancestry. Committed to the cause, they spend time, effort and money building a family tree that goes back generations and centuries, digging through church, public, family records and photographs and know their Hindu last names before conversion to Catholicism. Nowadays, they even use technology, online family trees and DNA testing to prove how Goan they are. They organize family reunions in Goa, Portugal or both.

***

Get your copy of Becoming Goan by Michelle Mendonça Bambawale wherever books are sold.

A Kaali-Peeli Bombay Taxi Wins the Race and How!

Posted on by prathod

Join the exciting ride with Alok Kejriwal in Getting Dressed and Parking Cars. The book takes us into the world of Games2win, a startup that dreams big in the gaming world. Imagine creating a game inspired by the crazy streets of Mumbai and the Iconic Kaali-Peeli Bombay taxi– it’s all part of the fun!

Read this exclusive excerpt for a quick ride in the taxi that’s set to win the race.

Put your seatbelts on!

Getting Dressed and Parking Cars
Getting Dressed and Parking Cars || Alok Kejriwal

***

 

I quietly assembled a small team from my previous companies to fire up the Games2win engines and was happy to see how excited they all were. My team and I had been involved in client service for years, and we were yearning to get started on building our own products.

 

I again turned to my colleague Dinesh Gopalakrishnan and decided he would be responsible for the car games vertical. My instructions to him were clear—‘Dinu, you need to start making brand new parking and driving games. They need to be casual, differentiated and fun. Also, I need at least ten unique titles split equally between the two types. So, step on the pedal and hit the road now (pun intended)!’ Dinesh was excited and went all in.

 

Before mandating Dinesh to make casual car games, I had thought very hard about the genre. How could I make driving and parking games ‘easy to play, but impossible to master’ (the magical recipe for creating great games)? What would make these games sticky and addictive despite being casual and snacky (meant to be played for short periods)?

 

My insight came quickly.
Real-life driving was the best reference!

 

In the real world, we drive or travel in a car from Point A to Point B without colliding with vehicles, objects or pedestrians. It’s impossible to imagine driving in the real world while having mini accidents on the way.

 

Leveraging this insight, I decided to build online car games with the opposite scenario. I wanted our online car games to be designed such that it would be impossible for a first-time player to navigate the car without an accident.

 

In the online game, while navigating congested roads and avoiding collisions with other vehicles, obstacles, pedestrians etc., players would not be able to complete a mission on the first attempt. After trying and losing the first time, the player would wish they had been more careful and would take another stab at playing the level.

 

Having bettered themselves, even if the player succeeded in winning the first level, the next level would be designed to ensure that a steep learning curve would be required to pass that level (play multiple times). The rest of the levels would gradually get harder and harder.

 

I was implementing the golden ‘easy to play, impossible to master’ game-level design mantra to make my first set of games.

 

Using this principle, a simple, well-designed game with minimum content could deliver multiple gameplays while providing endless entertainment to the player.

After understanding my design concept, Dinesh took up the task seriously and started game creation.

 

When we began thinking creatively for these car games, one exciting idea we devised together was a game called ‘Bombay Taxi’. The idea’s genesis was the streets of Mumbai. The ubiquitous black and yellow or kaali-peeli taxis, as they are fondly called, were unmissable and distinctly Mumbai.

 

If you haven’t sat in a Mumbai taxi, you should bump it up to the top of your list of must-dos. The varied interiors, stickers, idols of gods of all religions perched in the centre of the dashboard, and the beads, malas and flowers dangling from every available hook in the front section will awe you. And at night, the interior lights and illuminations on offer can give the world’s best designers a run for their money! Unsurprisingly, the first ever Apple store in India, which opened in 2023, is located in Mumbai and has drawn strong design inspiration from the inimitable kaalipeeli taxis!

 

Driving in Mumbai is hard. It means being super adept at navigating choking traffic, narrow roads, marriage, funeral and religious processions, avoiding crater-sized potholes, driving through flooded streets, zip-zapping two and three-wheelers and obeying all traffic rules and signals.

 

I often tell people, ‘If you can drive a car in Mumbai, you can drive a car anywhere in the world!’

 

The reality of Mumbai driving became our game design, and Dinesh created different types of Bombay taxis (typically, older generation Fiat cars, small SUVs and mini cars) with distinctive stylizations. He designed terrific ‘street levels’ in Mumbai that featured fisherwomen selling their wares on the road, confusing railway crossings, kids playing cricket on the main streets, hawkers selling their
wares almost everywhere, cows doing their own thing, food sellers, handcart pullers and the notorious ‘three-wheeler’ drivers, all contributing to the confusion and chaos that embodies the Maximum City .

 

Dinesh also amazingly recreated the sounds of Mumbai roads, featuring a cacophony of cars honking, hawkers shouting, trains, buses and trucks blowing their horns, street music and other typical Mumbai sounds.

 

The final car-driving game he produced was fantastic. The moment I started playing it, I couldn’t stop. When I finally did, about forty minutes had passed!

 

No sooner did the game go live on games2win.com than it became a super hit! It was bound to be.

 

***

Get your copy of Getting Dressed and Parking Cars by Alok Kejriwal wherever books are sold.

What It’s Really Like to Date with a Disability!

Posted on by prathod

Ever wondered what it’s truly like to date with a disability? Abhishek Anicca spills the beans in his book, The Grammar of My Body. Buckle up for a journey into his world, where he breaks stereotypes and shares the real talk about love, relationships, and the unique adventures of being a queer-disabled man. Get ready to dive into a story that’s anything but ordinary!

The Grammar of My Body
The Grammar of My Body || Abhishek Anicca

 

That’s a match

In my fantasies

I draw you
with a pencil

I draw myself
with an eraser

I have a fear, buried deep down inside me. That someday, someone will find me attractive. Someone would want to touch me, make love to me. Running their hands over my disabled body. Not turned off by the proportions of my body or the way it lies on the bed, hunched, like it is walking through a dream.

 

What should I tell them before we make love? Should I tell them that I wear a diaper? They would know that eventually. How would I tell them that? Should I start with my history of diseases? I have to tell them about my scoliosis. And my infections. My urinary tract infections. Infections that recur with growing frequency these days. We would use a condom. We have to use a condom. ‘Here, take E. coli. And thanks for making love to me.’ I can’t do that to anyone. Not after knowing that they like my body.

 

The thought makes me scared. I don’t know if I am capable of having penetrative sex. I haven’t done that for almost a decade. Not since I became disabled. The first few years of being disabled were just about coping with disability. How to go out without your bladder getting the best of you. Or, worse still, when you lose control over your shit while walking outside, in a mall. You run towards the bathroom, but it’s already too late. The film is about to start. My friends are waiting. There is no way I can watch the film now. My nerves are aching. There is a spasm that makes it hard for me to use my right leg. ‘Sorry, I had some urgent work. Had to rush out.’ No more movie plans for me. Not before I learn how to empty my bowels before I step out of the house. And wear a diaper just in case my bowels betray me. Adult diaper, my best friend.

 

‘Adult diaper’, the words cause a flutter in the medical store. They pile up in my wastebasket every week till I pack them in a black dustbin bag and deliver them personally to the garbage bin. A secret document of my lived life, delivered without anyone noticing. I was scared about sharing this secret even with friends. The word might get out soon and ruin whatever chances I had of going out on a date. Not that wearing a diaper was the only deal-breaker.

 

What does it mean to love a disabled person? Does it mean empathy? Do you empathize with your lover? Maybe it’s about passion. And understanding. But can you understand someone without empathizing with them? ‘I love you. I am sorry but I don’t want to be a
burden on you.’ My friend says disabled people can be negative. I agree. We are so negative that sometimes the able-bodied mind never reaches us. The distance is too far on a number line.

 

Recently, a cab driver asked me if I was married. I said no. He said ‘Oh! You have money, you must be getting laid anyhow.’ I looked at his face in the mirror beside him. A young man in his twenties. Maybe for him, access to sex was just about money. Maybe he had been rejected by someone because of money. Maybe I didn’t tell him that my only date, through an online dating site, was with a disabled girl. We went on a date and she only wanted to talk about our disability. Plus, getting sex was not a problem for her. ‘Men are bastards, they
don’t care if you are disabled, they just want to do it.’ I wasn’t envious any more.

 

There are times when I am full of self-hatred for my body. I don’t have a dressing table at home. It makes me feel better about myself. I keep telling myself that I am losing weight. But T-shirts don’t lie. I was in the hospital for a month around January with a severe kidney infection and by March, all of my T-shirts were tight. I thought you were supposed to lose weight when you fell ill. All givens escape me

 

Being fat is the least of your problems when you are wearing a diaper and have a urinary tract infection all the time. You pee so much that you forget male genitalia has any other purpose. It’s when you get better that your desire reawakens. But then, everyone makes you look in the mirror. You are still fat and disabled. You become sad. And then depressed. Spells of decent physical health occupied by bad mental health. Till it becomes a self-repeating cycle.

 

In my defence, I would like to say I love myself. But that is probably going too far. The first time I proposed to a girl as a twenty-year-old, she told me she liked me but didn’t love me. I think I agree with her. Even I possibly only like myself.

 

The thought of not being loved doesn’t haunt me any more. It bothers my romantic heart sometimes. But there are so many people who can’t find love. So I go out, have fun with friends, read books, write poetry and enjoy long platonic conversations

 

It’s just a few minutes every day. Probably around midnight. When my body hurts. It laments everything that eludes it. Every touch. Every sensation. And only then it is reminded of its incompleteness. Incomplete. Yearning. Longing. It’s like a melancholic song that never ends.

 

***

Get your copy of The Grammar of My Body by Abhishek Anicca wherever books are sold.

 

Can Nik and Tanvi’s Fake Engagement Save the Day?

Posted on by prathod

Let us introduce you to the dazzling world of  All That Sizzles by Sakshama Puri Dhaliwal, where wedding planner Tanvi Bedi faces a spicy challenge – organizing a $100 million wedding for a media heiress. The twist? She needs chef Nik Shankar, a guy who avoids weddings like the plague. And well…Nik must find a life partner to secure that bag because…REASONS!

Join the fiery passion as Tanvi and Nik embark on a fake engagement that might just turn into the love story they never knew they needed.

Can you hear the sizzle?

All That Sizzles
All That Sizzles || Sakshama Puri Dhaliwal

‘And to my grandson, Nikhil, I transfer the following assets:
1. Gitanjali by Rabindranath Tagore (first edition, hardcover, 1912) [Annexure II]
2. 1924 Rolls-Royce [Annexure III],
3. The apartment in Mayur Vihar, New Delhi [Annexure IV/A]
4. The property in Ambargarh (Alwar, Rajasthan) [Annexure IV/B]
5. Rs 8.62 crore in fixed deposits and bonds [Annexure V] conditional upon his marriage.’

 

Ruq frowned. ‘What happens if he never marries?’
‘As per a caveat in Clause 13.2, the condition expires in 2035,’ Rahul said.
‘So, I have until 2035 to get married?’ Nik asked.
‘Yes.’
‘And if I don’t?’
‘Clause 13.4. The assets will transfer to the Ministry of Culture.’
‘Can I trade the other assets for Ambargarh?’

 

Rahul looked at him like he had taken leave of his senses. ‘That doesn’t make sense financially. The car alone is worth more than—’
‘Can I do it?’ Nik asked.
‘Unfortunately, not.’
‘Can I buy it back from the government?’
‘You can try,’ Rahul said drolly. ‘Good luck navigating the reams of red tape.’

 

For the first time in years, Nik felt a hot, blinding rage towards the sadistic bastard that was his grandfather. Over the last decade, he had carefully cultivated a feeling of indifference towards the man, deigning to give him mind space only when their last remaining connection came up: Ambargarh.

 

The property had been bequeathed to Nik’s mother, Suchitra Devi, by her great-uncle, the Prince of Alwar, but had been under dispute for several years. After the fateful night that had ripped their family apart, Suchitra had moved into an ashram in Kerala, leaving her father— Nik’s grandfather—Vijay Pratap Singh Chauhan, as the attorney-in-fact.
Last year, the courts had finally awarded the property to Suchitra, leaving Vijay Pratap to do with it as he deemed fit.
Nik wanted it more than anything in the world.
And that sonofabitch knows it, he thought bitterly.

 

‘Ghost pepper,’ Nik muttered.
‘Huh?’ Rahul asked.
‘He’s pissed off,’ Ruq explained.
‘He is?’ the lawyer asked sceptically. His client seemed extremely composed, almost zen like.
But Ruq knew better. For years, she had witnessed Nik’s involuntary reflex of naming foods that accurately captured his thoughts in the moment. The ghost pepper was one of the spiciest chilli peppers in the world and certainly the hottest one they used in their kitchen.
Nik might be known for his patience and even temper, but Ruq could bet that underneath his calm demeanour, the chef was simmering.
‘He is,’ Ruq confirmed.
‘I’m fine,’ Nik gritted, his tone belying his words.
Rahul casually brushed a piece of lint off the lapel of his charcoal grey suit. ‘You could just speak to your grandfather, you know? Ask him to reconsider the terms of—’
‘I would rather die,’ Nik said.
‘I suppose that limits your options,’ Rahul shrugged.
‘To what?’ Ruq asked.
‘Marriage,’ Rahul said bluntly.
‘What if he gets married, takes possession of the assets and divorces his wife?’ Ruq asked.
‘Now that definitely sounds like a bad movie,’ Rahul said dryly.
Ruq arched an eyebrow, waiting for a response.

 

Rahul resisted the urge to roll his eyes. ‘I suppose he could. With an ironclad prenup.’
‘Can they prove that he’s not married?’ Ruq asked.
‘What?’ Rahul asked, bemused.
‘What?’ Nik repeated.
Ruq’s eyes widened, and Nik could almost see the wheels in her head turning. ‘Can they prove he’s not married?’
‘Can you prove he is?’ Rahul countered.
‘What proof do we need?’ Ruq asked.
‘A marriage certificate. A wedding card. Photos. Not to mention . . .’ Rahul paused for effect. ‘. . . a wife.’
‘What if she’s not his wife yet, but—’
‘I can guess where this is going,’ Rahul held up a hand. ‘The less I know, the better. As Nik’s lawyer, I can only advise him to pursue a legal path.’
‘But isn’t the law open to interpretation?’ Ruq argued. Rahul looked at her like she was deranged.
‘Call Prabhakar inside,’ Ruq said.
Rahul ignored that. Ruqsana might be Nik’s partner,
but Rahul didn’t take orders from her. He turned to Nik.
‘What do you want me to do?’
Nik looked at Ruq, What the hell are you playing at?
She gave him a reassuring nod. Trust me.

 

A few minutes later, a stout bespectacled man walked into the room. In contrast to his thinning hair, his moustache was thick and bushy, covering most of his upper lip. He wore an old, cheap suit over a striped polyester shirt. The buttons barely held his shirt together
and his stomach threatened to break free from their shackles any minute.

 

‘So? We have reached agreement?’ Prabhakar asked in his broken English.
‘Apparently,’ Rahul said with a resigned sigh, gesturing to Ruqsana.
‘Do you think Mr Chauhan would consider relaxing the condition to “engaged” instead of “married”?’ Ruq asked.

Understanding flashed in Nik’s eyes.
‘You are engaged?’ Prabhakar frowned at Nik.

 

***

Want to know what happens next?

Get your copy of All That Sizzles by Sakshama Puri Dhaliwal wherever books are sold.

Are Desk-Bound Individuals More Susceptible to Health and Mobility Issues?​

Posted on by prathod

Ever feel the ache from sitting too much at your desk? Shikha Puri Arora has the game plan you need in her latest book, Move Better.  This book isn’t just about sitting less; it’s your ticket to feeling awesome every day and staying away from ache-y postures and limited mobility.

Read this exclusive excerpt to learn simple tricks that can make sitting at your desk a breeze, keeping discomfort away and bringing more pep to your step.
Say goodbye to desk discomfort and hello to a healthier, happier you!

Move Better
Move Better || Shikha Puri Arora

***

A comprehensive approach to employee quality of life needs to be adopted so that they can deliver top-notch performance while thinking of their long-term well-being. Most approaches ignore the following factors:

• Most individuals are sedentary twenty-three hours a day and move just an hour. This makes them struggle with the basics of human function and health.

 

• A deskbound individual has limited range of motion in the joints and stiff muscles that are the consequence of inadequate hydration and poor posture. Efforts to increase mobility without addressing the causes are of little use.

 

• Stored muscle tension and emotions that are not removed from the physical body cause breathing limitations, which lead to anxiety and nervous tension. The state of the body detracts from the value of the courses undertaken to improve mental health. Troubleshooting the physical body thus becomes a pre-requisite for mental health.

 

• Basic movement mechanics of spinal stability, sitting, bending, standing, walking are untrained, thus neutralizing any benefit derived from fitness activities.

 

General fitness and corporate programmes don’t provide solutions to these causes and their effects. Employee welfare can be addressed only by including all these above aspects into a programme that focuses on the basics of health and well-being.

 

These techniques must be used by deskbound individuals to add mobility solutions to their daily life. Besides combating pain, the solutions provided make the brain alert and promote relaxation in the body. None of these divert the already preoccupied mind while working and can be used every day to increase blood circulation. These self-care techniques counter the effects of daily life stress and come with many benefits.

 

 

• Sitting with a wedge cushion keeps the spine erect and brain alert. The spine can stay erect longer without a back support and feel no fatigue. This is half the battle won as mobility isn’t compromised.

 

• Using a stick/rolling pin or ball under the foot at a standing desk prevents the fatigue (from standing), enhances posture and increases blood circulation. This is a position that encourages brain activity, improves concentration and creativity, and charges up the brain with ideas, increasing output. This is also a great way to increase NEAT calories for those individuals who have excessive sedentary hours.

 

• Rubbing a myofascial ball along the sides of the neck, jaw and head is an anxiety and stress-buster that increases circulation in the head and eyes. The entire action is inconspicuous!

 

• Myofascial release for the glutes keeps the hip mobile. Simply place a hard to medium ball under the buttocks. To prevent the ball from sinking into your chair you can use a hard placemat under the ball. This technique also massages the glutes and increases blood circulation in the area.

 

• Myofascial release for hamstrings ensures you will never have to experience back pain because of sitting! Imagine the magic of lengthening your hamstrings while you sit. For details on the technique, refer to page 205.

 

 

• Wrist, palm and forearm release with a ball not only improves mobility in the wrist, fingers and forearm, but it counters the stress on the palms, fingers, wrist and forearms caused by using devices.

 

Image 1: Place a ball under the wrist with your palms facing upwards. Place the other hand on top to put a gentle pressure and mobilize the wrist by moving it up and down. This instantly gives relief from wrist pain.

 

Image 2: While standing, lean forward and put your body weight on a medium to hard ball placed under your palms. The pressure will automatically make your palm and fingers feel light. Those with carpal tunnel will get some ease from this simple release technique.

 

Image 3: Place a hard to medium ball on one forearm and dig into various areas of the forearm. This gives instantly relief for those suffering from tennis elbow.

***

Get your copy of Move Better by Shikha Puri Arora wherever books are sold

Did Headhunting Hold the Key to Victory in Kohima? Find Out!

Posted on by prathod

Ever wondered about a battle so significant that it’s hailed as the ‘Stalingrad of the East’ and marked the end of the British Empire?
Step into the fascinating world of His Majesty’s Headhunters by Mmhonlümo Kikon, a gripping tale that unveils the hidden history of the siege of Kohima during World War II.
Read this exclusive excerpt to discover the ancient practice of headhunting, a crucial aspect of Naga life, and how it played a vital role in defining their identity and survival.

 

His Majesty's Headhunters
His Majesty’s Headhunters || Mmhonlümo Kikon

***

‘On the question being once put to the Nagas whether they
would like to become the subjects of the Company, they promptly
replied, “No: we could not then cut off the heads of men and
attain renown as warriors, bearing the honourable marks of
our valour on our bodies and faces.”’

—John Butler,
A Sketch of Assam, 1847, p. 160

Decapitating with the right blow of the Dao, or Headhunting, wasthe most significant art of warfare practised by the Nagas from the
ancient times right up until 1994.

 

To win a war was signified by the number of heads the Naga warrior brought home. Without these heads of the enemies, the war meant nothing. Headhunting was a source of motivation for all aspects of life in a Naga village. It gave them vigour and to the warrior a renewed energy, translating into the virility of crops and wealth thereof; the warrior with the most heads found stardom and a place of privilege in the eyes of his villagers.

 

At first glance, the headhunting practice of the Nagas has simply been described by its action—savagery of the uncivilized.

 

It happened at a time when there was no knowledge of guns. And till the British arrived, the Nagas were using the dao and the spear. In present times it is best to imagine a machete and a javelin used for chopping firewood or as a sport—all for non-violent purposes. But through stories passed down generations, the agency of oral tradition has brought to light the principles of warfare and the significance attached to the glory and honour of taking off the heads in a battle. It is so intrinsic to any discussion on warfare among the Nagas that it is now considered by many to be the keystone of the survival of the race living across the mountainous ranges of Patkai and Saramati. The noted Naga writer, Temsula Ao, reflecting on ‘Headhunting’ writes, ‘In the oral histories of different Naga tribes, the overriding emphasis on head-hunting is that it was a necessary strategy for the survival of each village community. Living in an insulated environment, each tribe began a process of indoctrination that this practice was not only necessary but also good for the people.’

 

It was more survival than preservation of a race as one village would fight the other through a stratagem of surprise and ambush.
The stratagem was always meticulously developed.

 

There were many reasons for villages to attack each other. Sometimes when they formed a coalition to attack a bigger village or foe, it was to raid the granary of the bigger village. It was not an act of vengeance. Normally over the years feuds between villages developed for various causes and vengeance was sought. And this vengeance became the driving force of the warriors. In the brandishing of decapitated heads, the thirst for vengeance was met. It was a celebration, a decisive victory over the enemy, a proclamation of the strength and the prowess of the warrior over the defeated.

Deep within the thirst for the heads was the belief that the soul or the human spirit resides in the head and the act of chopping the enemy’s head is like depriving the enemy of the soul too. At least that was the belief that gave them a sense of gratification. The practice of taking heads was not limited to the Nagas alone. However, the practice was considered a rite of passage from childhood to manhood, to be precise, and it was the key to getting community permission to get married. Among many Naga tribes, no man could get married if he had not taken a head in the battlefield. Such conditions were put in the olden times to ensure that the village ensured a steady flow of warriors and developed a custom so entrenched in the social system that it cemented the practice of headhunting in the community.

 

‘An eye for an eye’ was the philosophy40 when it came to responding to any heads taken from the village by the enemy. In an interesting report by A.J. Moffatt Mills, he writes, ‘It is totally incompatible with the Naga honour also to forego taking revenge, and it is incumbent on him to ransom or recover the skull of a relative murdered or captured in war, years may elapse but the murder of a relative is never forgotten and when a favourable opportunity offers probably, twice the number of victims are sacrificed. Retaliation again ensues and consequently there can never be a termination to these exterminating feuds.’ Till the killing was avenged by hunting the head of the enemy, the village could not restore their pride.41 Ferocious and violent as it was, it established the reputation of the warriors as proficient and successful in headhunting. They were not only the role models for all future warriors in the community, but they also became the hunted and therefore needed more warriors to be trained and skilled in the art of warfare for their own protection. The experienced and successful warrior then became the most vicious head-hunter in the process—and the taking of his head by an enemy would ensure immediate fame. Vengeance was sought for every head taken and it went on for years and years till the dead were avenged, and the entire village sometimes carried the trauma of not having done justice to the soul thus taken.

***

Get your copy of His Majesty’s Headhunters by Mmhonlümo Kikon wherever books are sold.

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